Maybe Davenport didn't give his wife the exact location of where he was heading."Just then there was a heavy hand on Bahn's shoulder and he turned in his chair and looked up at the face of a lanky man, with a head-full of blonde, unkempt hair and light-blue eyes, who looked to be in this early forties. His most notable feature, as he looked down at Bahn, was his friendly, though crooked, smile."Hamilton Bahn?" the man in the grey tweed sport-jacket asked."Yes," Bahn replied, standing now.The stranger held out his hand, stating, "I'm Lester. Sam Lester with the FBI." Yes," Bahn said, smiling in recognition and taking his hand to shake it. "We talked earlier today. Please have a seat."Lester took a chair and sat, smiling now at Kit."I'm sorry," Bahn quickly offered, "this is Kit Cassidy with the RCMP." A Mountie, eh?" Lester said to her, taking her offered hand and grasping it sideways for a moment before asking, "So where's your red coat?"She laughed. "I [I]do[/I] have one, but only. What I see, as I look in the mirror are my breast overflowing from my bra and blouse with the material gathered around the bottom of each pushing them up and out. My hands are on my breast rolling my hard nipples between my thumb and forefinger with a pulling motion. I close my eyes squeezing my breast together to use one hand, back and forth on my nipples, as I slide the other hand down between my legs. Closing my eyes, I feel your fingers gently parting my legs while it lifts my skirt up around my hips all in one motion. Quickly your palm moves to start fondling roughly against the front of my panties. I moan and cry out as the lace is pulled and rubs my sensitive clit sending shivers through my body. At this point I realize again, it is my hand, not yours, but I have pushed myself too far. I hurry across the room pulling my skirt up higher on my hips and then falling across the bed on my back with my knees pulled up in a wide ‘V’. I pull my panties to the side sliding two fingers.
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